Fanny and the Servant Problem. Jerome Klapka Jerome
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YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. No, Bennet, oh no! I should leave them up. Very thoughtful of you, indeed.
BENNET. It seemed to me one ought to leave no stone unturned. [He returns to his labours in the bedroom.]
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [after a pause]. I do hope she’ll like the Bennets.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I think she will – after a time, when she is used to them.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I am so anxious it should turn out well.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I feel sure she’s a good woman. Vernon would never have fallen in love with her if she hadn’t been good. [They take each other’s hand, and sit side by side, as before, upon the settee. The twilight has faded: only the faint firelight remains, surrounded by shadows.] Do you remember, when he was a little mite, how he loved to play with your hair? [The younger Miss Wetherell laughs.] I always envied you your hair.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. He was so fond of us both. Do you remember when he was recovering from the measles, his crying for us to bath him instead of Mrs. Bennet? I have always reproached myself that we refused.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. He was such a big boy for his age.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I think we might have stretched a point in a case of illness.
The room has grown very dark. The door has been softly opened; Vernon and Fanny have entered noiselessly. Fanny remains near the door hidden by a screen, Vernon has crept forward. At this point the two ladies become aware that somebody is in the room. They are alarmed.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Who’s there?
VERNON. It’s all right, aunt. It’s only I.
The two ladies have risen. They run forward, both take him in their arms.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Vernon!
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. My dear boy!
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. But we didn’t expect you —
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. And your wife, dear?
VERNON. She’s here!
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Here?
Fanny, from behind the screen, laughs.
VERNON. We’ll have some light. [He whispers to them.] Not a word – haven’t told her yet. [Feeling his way to the wall, he turns on the electric light.]
Fanny is revealed, having slipped out from behind the screen. There is a pause. Vernon, standing near the fire, watches admiringly.
FANNY. Hope you are going to like me.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. My dear, I am sure we shall.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. It is so easy to love the young and pretty. [They have drawn close to her. They seem to hesitate.]
FANNY [laughs]. It doesn’t come off, does it, Vernon, dear? [Vernon laughs. The two ladies, laughing, kiss her.] I’m so glad you think I’m pretty. As a matter of fact, I’m not. There’s a certain charm about me, I admit. It deceives people.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We were afraid – you know, dear, boys – [she looks at Vernon and smiles] sometimes fall in love with women much older than themselves – especially women – [She grows confused. She takes the girl’s hand.] We are so relieved that you – that you are yourself, dear,
FANNY. You were quite right, dear. They are sweet. Which is which?
VERNON [laughs]. Upon my word, I never can tell.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Vernon! And you know I was always your favourite!
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Dear!
VERNON. Then this is Aunt Alice.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. No dear, Edith.
[Vernon throws up his hands in despair. They all laugh.]
FANNY. I think I shall dress you differently; put you in blue and you in pink. [She laughs.] Is this the drawing-room?
VERNON. Your room, dear.
FANNY. I like a room where one can stretch one’s legs. [She walks across it.] A little too much desk [referring to a massive brass-bound desk, facing the three windows].
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. It belonged to the elder Pitt.
FANNY. Um! Suppose we must find a corner for it somewhere. That’s a good picture.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. It is by Hoppner.
FANNY. One of your artist friends?
VERNON. Well – you see, dear, that’s a portrait of my great-grandmother, painted from life.
FANNY [she whistles]. I am awfully ignorant on some topics. One good thing, I always was a quick study. Not a bad-looking woman.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. We are very proud of her. She was the first —
VERNON [hastily]. We will have her history some other time.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [who understands, signs to her sister]. Of course. She’s tired. We are forgetting everything. You will have some tea, won’t you, dear?
FANNY. No, thanks. We had tea in the train. [With the more or less helpful assistance of Vernon she divests herself of her outdoor garments.]
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [she holds up her hands in astonishment]. Tea in the train!
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We were not expecting you so soon. You said in your telegram —
VERNON. Oh, it was raining in London. We thought we would come straight on – leave our shopping for another day.
FANNY. I believe you were glad it was raining. Saved you such a lot of money. Old Stingy!
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Then did you walk from the station, dear?
FANNY. Didn’t it seem a long way? [She laughs up into his face.] He was so bored. [Vernon laughs.]
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I had better tell – [She is going towards the bell.]
VERNON [he stops her]. Oh, let them alone. Plenty of time for all that fuss. [He puts them both gently side by side on the settee.] Sit down and talk. Haven’t I been clever? [He puts his arm round Fanny, laughing.] You thought I had made an ass of myself, didn’t you? Did you get all my letters?
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I think so, dear.
FANNY [she is sitting in an easy-chair. Vernon seats himself on the arm]. Do you know I’ve never had a love-letter from you?
VERNON. You gave me no time. She met me a month ago, and married me last week.
FANNY. It was quick work. He came – he saw – I conquered! [Laughs.]
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. They say that love at first sight is often the most lasting.
VERNON [he puts his arm around her]. You are sure you will never regret having given up the stage? The excitement, the —
FANNY. The excitement! Do you know what an actress’s life always seemed to me like? Dancing on a tight-rope with everybody throwing stones at you. One soon gets tired of that sort of excitement. Oh, I was never in love with the stage. Had to do something for a living.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. It must be a hard life for a woman.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Especially for anyone not brought up to it.
FANNY. You see, I had a good voice and what I suppose you might call a natural talent for acting. It seemed the easiest thing.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I suppose